This time Menolly could enjoy the sensations of flying. She couldn’t imagine why Petiron had found the experience so horrible. She didn’t even fear the lack of all sensation as they went between. She did feel the bitter, bitter cold in the soles of her half-healed feet, but the pain lasted such a fleeting second. Abruptly, they were low over the Dragon Stones, coming in from the sea. The sheer thrill of the flight took Menolly’s breath away.

“There is a chance that the first queen might lay another clutch in that cave,” T’gellan said over his shoulder. “But it should be cleared of your things.”

So they landed on the beach with Monarth peering rather disapprovingly at the little cove while the water lapped gently on his feet

Her group arrived, carolling in wild delight at coming home. A single fire lizard appeared above and to one side of them.

“Look, T’gellan, that’s the old queen!”

But she’d gone when T’gellan looked up.

“I’m sort of sorry she saw us here. I was hoping ... where was the clutch when yon rescued it?”

“We’re standing on the place.”

Monarth moved to one side.

“Does he hear what I’m telling you?” Menolly whispered anxiously in T’gellan’s ear.

“Yes, so be careful how you speak of him. He’s very sensitive.”

“I haven’t said anything, have I, that would hurt his feelings?”

“Menolly!” T’gellan looked back at her, grinning, “I was teasing you.”

“Oh!”

“Hmmm, Yes. Well, so you managed to climb that cliff face?”

“It wasn’t so hard. If you’ll look, you’ll see there’re plenty of hand and foot holds, even before I made a regular path.”

“A regular path? Hmmm. Yes. Monarth, can you get us a bit closer, please?”

Monarth obligingly angled against the cliff face and raised himself to his haunches; Menolly was amazed to see that they could step off his shoulders right into the cave.

Her nine came arrowing into the opening, trumpeting and squealing, their bugles abruptly amplified by the vaulting height of the inner cavern. Just as she and T’gellan reached it, the light was suddenly blocked. Turning, she saw Monarth’s head in the opening, his great eyes whirling idly.

“Monarth, get your great, bloody, big head out of the light, will you?” asked T’gellan.

Monarth blinked, gave a little wistful rumble, but removed his great head.

“Why didn’t anyone find you on Search, young lady?” T’gellan asked, and she saw that he’d been watching her intently.

“No one’s ever been Searched at Half-Circle Sea Hold.”

“That shouldn’t surprise me. Now, where did the old queen have her clutch?”

“Right where you’re standing.”

T’gellan jumped sideways, giving her a second admonitory look, which she couldn’t interpret. He knelt, running his fingers through the sand, making pleased noises in his throat